Razor Sharp Slices of Life
by Napoleon1815
Summary: The title says it all. Razor Sharp Slices of Life. A collection of moments, arcs, parts and pieces of the story The Cynic and Fire Queen. Philosophical rants, razor sharp observations and quips, hilarious moments between Hachiman and various characters. Hopefully keeps you entertained. Enjoy!
1. Author's Note

What is this?

Why, the title says it all! Razor sharp slices of life!

Collection of scenes, short stories and interaction tidbits (even random) between the cynic and fire queen. And a few more characters.

Quips, probes, japes, insults, musings, harangues verbal ordeals.

Joy, anger, wonder, confusion, wisdom, hostility, innocence, impudence, reflections and cynicism.

These are parts, arcs and pieces of The Cynic and Fire Queen story.

Will definitely be incorporated in the actual story. Consider this a sort of sneak-peek/slices of the whole cake.

Yes, The Cynic and Fire Queen will be rewritten into a full, fleshed out story. Looking at it now, I realized that plenty of really juicy and pivotal parts of the story was grossly left out. If you read cynic and fire queen, you may notice story plot inconsistencies. don't worry. that'll all be explained in the rewrite. in this one, there are scenes that didn't make it in the poetry-like version of the story.

Gonna be filling this up to entertain y'all while waiting for updates.

Enjoy!

-Napoleon1815


	2. Grandmaster and Court Queen

/ooo

"Checkmate." _Beating her is as easy as breakfast._ Hachiman smirked, before resuming his attention towards the book in hand. Her smile rapidly turned upside-down and scowled at him.

"W-why! What the fuck!"

"Tut-tut. Language." Miura stared in disbelief. She was on her fourth losing streak, and the cynic in front of her would always catch her in under several minutes. It was getting on her nerves. Miura had castled her king, as Hachiman had advised, yet now she lost the game by a smothered checkmate. The repulsive black knight piece seemed to mock her, and there was nothing she could do.

He had promised to grant her a request. If she manages to beat him, the grandmaster.

Well, actually, no. Hachiman lied, telling Miura that he was a pro chess player. Truth be told, he had only recently developed a penchant for playing the strategy board game. After all, chess is a game of cold logic and calculation. One that suited him like a glove.

And now that he had someone to play a match with, it was a good opportunity. However, the fire queen certainly was not the best opponent he could hope to face.

"You'll get better. It takes time."

"Oh, shut up. And wipe that smug look on your face."

/ooo

"Oho! You dare challenge me? I will smite you off the fucking court!" Miura hollered at him.

_I knew it! It was a bad idea to play tennis after chess!_ Hachiman grimaced, panting and sweating profusely. He propped his body with his arms on his knees, looking at the blonde woman from between his sopping wet hair. Miura on the other hand, did not look even a bit drained of energy. In fact, she was seeping with fire.

This would teach him not to provoke the queen of the court, especially if she is in a bad mood. And after losing to him in a game of chess, Hachiman knew that she was going to get back at him in one way or another.

/ooo

The midday sun was beating down on the students, the reddish concrete court radiating in heat. Everyone was practicing singles tennis, and guess who the cynic was paired up with?

The bright yellow ball whizzed past him, as he watched it fly by, slow motion style.

"Oi. Miura, take it easy."

"What'd you say?" she put a cupped hand to her ear, mocking him with a grin. "You play like old people fuck! Slow and sloppy!"

Hachiman cringed. _There she goes again. Cocky bitch._ Somehow, a certain ice queen and this blonde woman had striking similarities. Especially when it comes to launching insults at him. He could already hear his fellow students laughing to themselves after hearing what she said.

/ooo

"My word. I can't believe you fell for that." He giggled, watching her clench her fists as if preparing to sweep the board with an arm.

"You goddamned cheat!"

"Er- no. That's called Fool's checkmate." to add more gasoline to the fire, he sneered. "_Fool._"

When she grabbed a handful of her white pieces, his eyes widened.

"Oh shit!-"

He leapt from his chair, out from the flight trajectory of several pawns, a king and a bishop.

/ooo

There, he lay on the cool concrete floor. The night sky was devoid of any stars, and the nearby floodlight overhead stung his eyes.

"You have to do it Hikio. You promised." she stared at him, an eyebrow raised. It was true, he did promise to become her doubles partner in the upcoming tennis competition. But now, it seemed that he was regretting that vow in the first place.

Miura put out a hand, a gesture to pull him up. "You can do this. You can. You keep coming here everyday, and I'll train you."

He smiled. Hachiman knew that reference.

"_You already have._"

She could not stop herself from grinning. They both laughed, and he took her hand.

"Alright, _Private Cage._ Let's roll!"

_This woman has two qualities that I admire. Perseverance, and above all, Fire._

/ooo


	3. Coffee and tea disputes

/ooo

"I enjoy young people because they're really fucked up and don't know what they're doing. I like that. I support all fucked-up people regardless of age."

Miura nearly spat out her drink, only saved by a swift paper towel to the lips. The cynic chuckled lightly, smirking.

"Hikio! You! Are pretty fucked up as well!" She retorted, scowling at the dead fish-eyed man in front of him, who was smugly tucking to his cup of steaming coffee, stirring it slowly. He simply shrugged.

"Who isn't?"

/ooo

"Let us assume that you do get into a relationship with Hayama. So what then?" One of his eyebrows were arched high, anticipating an answer.

"What do you mean what then? Oh, you stupid- of course you won't understand!" Miura hissed at him. "No I do not. Please enlighten me." He quietly said, while sipping on his cup of honey tea. In turn, she took a swig of her cold frappucino.

Her lips parted slightly, but not a word came out. Her brows rapidly furrowed, fierce green eyes glaring at his dead black ones. A bead of cold sweat ran down her cheek, as she was once again caught on his grounds.

Exasperated, she cried out. "Fine! Hikio! Where is this going? Is there some point on the fucking horizon! Just break it to me!" He raised a finger as if to shush her, which she irritably swatted away.

He cleared his throat. "As I was saying, let us assume that you are in a relationship with Hayama. You know, boyfriend-girlfriend. That kind of crap." The blonde drummed her sneakers under the coffee table impatiently. Faint traces of red is apparent on her pink cheeks. "And?"

"All goes well. You two spend time together, laugh and have fun. Kiss." Somehow, she sensed mockery in his voice upon uttering the last word. It was certainly tempting to pound her fists atop his head. "You two love each other. But to what extent?"

Miura leaned back on her chair, crossing her arms. The cynic in front of her was certainly enjoying himself to her expense. "And your point is?"

"Do you want to marry Hayama?" Was his blunt question.

"W-what! But- it's! Oh, shut up!" Her face blushed a brilliant shade of red, before being covered by her pale hands. In between her fingers, angry green orbs glared back at him. "You think this is funny!"

He waved his hand to her, as if dispelling the metaphorical mist of sarcasm. "Honestly, it is quite intriguing."

"What is the end result of romantic relationships?" Miura simply stared at him intently, with a small frown. He answered his own question.

"Breakup. Or marriage."

"Hikio. Shut the fuck up."

Additionally, divorce.

/ooo  
[Hikio arc.]

Hachiman leaned over, propped up by his elbows. Notes of citrus and flowers wafted up his nostrils as he gazed at the woman before him, hunched over the countertop and her face buried in her arms. Her long, waist-length blonde locks of hair were disheveled, yet still elegant.

"Hey. Keiza." Peering up at him were indigo colored eyes, moist with tears.

Meanwhile, from the sidelines another blonde woman, this time with emerald green eyes observed the two, a smug look on her face.

"Listen. I understand you're upset." By now, Keiza had sobered up- at least, to the point that she didn't seem on the verge of crying. All those beer were certainly getting to her. She certainly looked beautiful, picture a blonde Kawa-something. Too bad He's going to have to take out the bitter truth.

"But you're both nineteen. You can't think you were only gonna screw each other forever. That's just silly talk."

Her face rapidly contorted into an angry visage, as her eyelids squeezed shut, drawing teardrops. His collars on the other hand, were violently seized and shook back and forth.

"Hikio! You are such an asshole!" She cried.

The fire queen burst out into peals of laughter, smacking her palms on the countertop. A certain silver-headed woman crossed her arms, shaking her head in disapproval.

Well, there hardly is a way to reveal the truth without coming off as an asshole, is there?

/ooo


	4. Razor Sharp I

/ooo

Hiratsuka-sensei brushed off her vest, returning her attention towards the essay paper. "You have to do something you love-"

"I've heard that speech before, sensei-" Kawasaki was cut off in return.

"Bullshit. You clearly have not heard this speech before, because you are working at Angel's Ladder." She snapped, silencing the silver-head.

The cynic and fire queen quietly sat side by side on a leather couch, watching the two women bicker.

/ooo

"You thought it was hard? If second grade is busting your ass, then I have bad news for you about the rest of life."

Keika stared at the cynic blankly. Who then received a blow to the back of the head, moments later.

"Hikigaya! Language!" Kawasaki shrieked, while strangling him with his own tie.

"Hnghgrh- Woman! I concede!"

/ooo

"I just want silence."

"Hmph! Mou, Hachi... don't you like me anymore..." sly woman. Always the actress.

"Jeezus. It doesn't mean I don't like you anymore. It just means right now, I like silence more."

"Hachiman!" She clutched his coat, smacking his chest with her balled fists, lightly. The cynic tousled her warm, blonde hair lovingly.

If she was his wife, then silence would be his mistress.

He inwardly chuckled at the thought.

/ooo  
[Hikio arc.]

"How did you... but..."

He pulled out a pair of black shades, put them on and sifted his fingers through his hair, fixing it backwards. Almost mystically, from a dead fish-eyed cynic he morphed into a handsome young man dressed in a crisp white dress shirt.

"Is there anything I could do for you, miss?" Hachiman asked in a smooth, calm voice.

The blonde was certainly surprised, as her cheeks took on a fair hue of crimson. Her lips quickly formed into a grin.

"You, my good man, are not as dumb as I first fucking suspected."

/ooo

Hachiman stooped down to Isshiki's level, lightly placing a hand on her shoulder. "I have no problem with you crying. My only concern was with the snot that was coming out of your nose. Where does that go? On your hands, your dress?"

The redheaded fox, with teary red eyes, looked at him in irritation. "S-senpai... you meanie..." She said, in between sobs.

"Hayama is not going to- oh Jesus, don't start crying."

/ooo

"You've got good friends. I like them. I don't think they would fuck your girlfriend, if you had one."

Hachiman choked on his soba bread. "Jesus Christ. Miura."

/ooo


	5. Case of bullshit

/ooo

A ruse. On the red concrete Hachiman lay still, as if paralyzed. It was one of his signature shams to counter the burden of pair-work during activities. Afterwards, He would simply play a match of tennis against the wall. It was simple.

"Oi, Hikio. What's the matter?" Miura had her hands on her hips, looking down at him. "I think... I am sick." He mumbled in a weak voice.

The blonde simply frowned, green eyes eliciting disbelief. "You say you're sick, huh? Well, it seems like you came down with a case of bullshit." She sneered. "You ain't sick. Spit it out."

"This is singles tennis. I do not want to pair up with someone." Think about it. It is called singles tennis. Should you not play it single?

"Well, what the fuck makes you think they want to pair up with you?"

"They don't." It was a fact, nobody would partner up with him if given an alternative option. Miura narrowed her eyes, a dangerous hint. She smirked. "Well, let's go ask our classmates." She said, pulling him up, much to his exasperation.

"Hey Aika-chan, would you want to be Hikio-kun's partner?" Miura asked a certain brunette. The shy girl simply let out a tentative giggle. "Erm... I don't know... no?"

Make up your mind, woman.

The cynic could not help but grit his teeth in vexation. So does he, the very reason why he does not want nor need to associate with other people.

Miura turned and looked at him, wide green eyes as if she had uncovered the missing clue in a murder case. "There you have it!" She exclaimed. "Apparently you're no goddamned saint, either."

/ooo


	6. Fishing for Answers

/ooo

Like a canvas of stellar proportions, as the sun sank on a horizon of inky black the sky was painted in a gradient of yellow, vermilion and purple. Night crept ever so slowly westward, dark blues stretching farther to engulf the light colors in darkness. Thin wisps of clouds streaked the sky, leaving the moon and stars visible to the naked eye. On a stone promenade, two figures stood side by side leaning on the railing, gazing out to the sea. A warm breeze carried with it notes of salt air and sweetness. It was such a serene and peaceful atmosphere, most certainly romantic.

The line tugged vigorously, as something was once again snagged on the hook. "Nine."

His remark elicited another glare from the blonde woman beside him. "What is this? I've only caught two in the past hour, and you have nine?"

"Patience, Yumiko. You cannot rush the fish." He silently chuckled to himself.

"Patience my ass." She retorted. "Switch places!"

"We've been doing that every time I snag a fish." She simply growled as he snickered at her. "Perhaps they are afraid of you."

"It is only natural that they are attracted to you. Your eyes look like those of a fish!"

"In this case, it is an advantage."

"No shit."

Miura slumped forward, her brows furrowed in a slight, impatient frown. Resting her cheek on the palm of her hand, she lazily pulled her empty line up. Not even the bait remained. "Cheer up. We can do this another day."

For the lazy, often languorous Hikigaya Hachiman, this was certainly a very pleasant way to pass time. All there was to do was stand quietly holding a rod in his hands, patiently waiting for a motion that would signal a catch. The temperature was nicely cool, and the sun's rays no longer had the sting of high noon. Silence, as smooth as the occasional breeze, well appreciated. Even better, having a companion with him made everything so much better than standing by himself like a poor, miserable fellow. In it, he indulged, much to Miura's displeasure. To her, this whole affair was extremely tedious.

"Fishing is fun." Miura sighed. "But catching is better."

"Fishing is a discipline in the equality of men; for all men are equal before fish." Hikigaya said, complacent.

"Boy, you've got nerves to talk about equality." She snapped. "Two to nine? Where's the equality in that?"

"I never said there would be equality. That's life, kiddo."

More often than not, people complain about inequality than injustice. There's a big difference between the two. When you think about it, do people deserve what they get? Perhaps they do. Perhaps they do not. He decided that while life is not always fair, it had to be just. What is justice? But another supposition, a concoction of society which draws the line between what is right or wrong.

Right or wrong is a metaphysical concept derived from social prejudice.

Life is a blank canvas. Society, culture, tradition paint it in a variety of hues and shades, drawing lines and colors of what is, what was, what should be. Take away that, a man on his own shall form his own assumptions and presumptions. Society is where man meets man, and finds out which of their assumptions and presumptions prove mutually agreeable.

"Oi, Hikio!" an irritated, impatient voice pulled him out of his train of thoughts.

But certainly, it was only fair and just that she had not caught nine fish, he noted to himself. A wicked notion, but this impertinent social monarch had to one way or another experience the guillotine of disappointment. "What's so funny?" it seemed that he had been giggling at his thought, noticeably.

"When you think about it, people and fish are alike." Miura raised a brow at his statement, green eyes implicitly curious. "They both get into trouble when they open their mouths."

She let out an unconvincing laugh, indignation apparent behind a façade of amusement. "Are you referring to a certain someone?" he simply shrugged, facing an annoyed blonde.

"You ought to practice what you preach!" she hissed at him. "Everytime you open that mouth of yours, shit comes out."

The cynic grinned, laughing. In a way, what would be considered insults to ordinary people had become a sort of sharp, honest mention of his antics. Certainly not on the level of a certain passive-aggressive ice queen, but this queen of fire was similar in a way. Vicious in criticism, not only did she not sugarcoat her words, there was no filter as well!

"But come on now. It's all fair and equal."

"Put yourself in my place, how would you feel if someone had more points than you?" it was a rhetorical question, to which he looked at her intently.

"Yeah, that's right. equality ain't so fun when it's fucking with you."

Indeed. Placing two people on equal grounds, equal opportunities. Yet you cannot expect both to gain an equal amount of profit. Both of them stood at the edge of the fenced promenade, angling for a catch, on the same grounds. It wasn't magic. Perhaps luck, but then she was just unlucky.

She had a razor sharp point. "Touché, Yumiko. Touché."

After looking over the gleaming orange-streaked wrasse, he freed it from the hook. "Let's go catch a bus home." He said, taking his fishing rod and putting it back in a barrel. She did the same. The two traipsed up the stone path, eager to go home.

She strode past him, leading the way. "Come on now, hurry up." He simply smiled, walking relaxedly. A contrast to her brisk pace, flowing with impatience and vigor. Her silken hair swayed to the wind, like a golden curtain. The way she walked, her lithe figure. Those emerald green eyes. Prestige and elegance.

Charm is that beauty in women- you can not say "no".

She who is charming can commit any crime. And in this case, it would be a grand theft of the heart. Had he been the same fool he was all those years ago, this blonde woman would have stolen his heart right there and then!

Alas, even his preconceptions were shattered. Looking back, it seemed that the myth he fondly held true was debunked. Even this darling woman, against all odds, was rejected. But how could it be? It seemed illogical. However, it is only so; human emotions, as a certain sensei taught him, were an incalculable factor. Calculation must stand on a logical foundation, and thus, the only logical explanation for this anomaly is the concept of the illogical.

But her? Her lips, so sweet, so soft. Her cheeks, fair and pink. And if you look into those eyes, you may find yourself lost in a field of green. A smile, so sweet.

One of the greatest deceptions. Like candy, delightfully sweet. Like candy, covered in plastic.

_The greatest burden is knowledge. I could be wrong, and that is the hardest part._

Know. Love ends, as swiftly as it began. The lifespan of such a quixotic relationship is directly proportional to the amount of time it consumed in the process of creating it.

Thus, time is what gives meaning to relationships.

What is the worth?

Live

Love

Leave.

"People go fishing all their lives, not realizing it is not the fish they are after."

She looked at him. "You say something?" He lightly closed his eyelids, shaking his head slowly. But Miura had heard him clearly. This man, certainly cryptic, she thought to herself. If one would pay closer attention, it would seem that he was an old sage trapped in a young shell of a body. And pay closer attention, she did. They had been enjoying the presence of each other for quite some time now, a relationship that somehow managed to work out. She was a listener, so was He. But perhaps that is what made them both compatible. They listened to each other.

_Atleast, that is what I wanted to believe._

It was difficult to understand him.

Fishing for answers.

She slid her hands into the pockets of her blue jacket. "What are we after?" And he looked back at her, dead black eyes that seemed to penetrate her physical and psychological being. In a way, it was intimidating. It was as if he could uncover her deepest secrets with a single glance. But he smiled, though it was one that did not reach the eyes. Faint, yet sincere?

Strangely, she felt like her secrets were safe with him. She felt comfortable, open and helpless like a delicate orchid. There were moments she did not need to present herself as a pharaoh of the social pyramid. So long as he was with her. Maybe, she could be just another girl.

Green met black, the two gazing at each other as they slowly walked. Everything seemed lucid, like a dream. "To be honest, I am not certain." In other words, you do not know, she inwardly corrected.

"Nobody knows what is going to happen next. Yet we all do it."

"It is difficult." She looked at him, smiling a bit. Perhaps a slight trace of sadness? "Having no one to share it with, I mean."

"Well, knowing more does mean having more shit to deal with." He said, in a worn-out tone.

_But I want to know._

_If I have to deal with your shit, so be it._

She wanted to uncover his secrets too.

/ooo


End file.
